


Dreaming Without Breathing

by aerye



Category: due South
Genre: Angst, M/M, Memes, Post-Episode s03e04: Strange Bedfellows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-20 14:58:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14263557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aerye/pseuds/aerye
Summary: Ray wants to live in the past; Fraser wants him to move on.





	Dreaming Without Breathing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ride_Forever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ride_Forever/gifts).



> Ficlet: In and out fast. ::g::
> 
> Ride_Forever gave me the prompt: _due South_ , Fraser/Kowalski. Angst with a happy ending is a plus. First line: "Ray, please put down that bottle of Everclear and listen to me."
> 
> Except—sorry—it wound up in the middle of the story. 
> 
> This was interesting because I don't often write from a Fraser POV. Had to readjust my head a bit.
> 
> The song is from the episode, "De Cara A La Pared" by Lhasa, if you want to translate. Title from the song. And maybe that makes this songfic. You decide.
> 
> Beginning dialogue lifted from episode and belongs to whoever wrote it.

"Want to go get something to eat? Fraser asked.

Ray sighed. "Nah, Fraser, I think I'd like to be alone." He rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Fraser's mood deflated a bit. "I understand. You know, Ray, what you said to Weston about not being able to go back, did you—did you mean that?" he asked hopefully.

Ray had his head down. He sounded drained. "Uh—nah, I was lying."

"Because you had a gun pointed to your head?" Fraser wasn't a man to ignore the truth.

"Yeah."

Fraser turned left down the hallway to the elevators. "Well, you know, I understand, or as you might say, I 'overstand'— " He stopped. Realized he was alone and stepped back into the hallway, now empty. He looked looked around for Ray. Ray was gone. He turned back the way he came and left the building.

* * *

__

_Llorando, de cara a la pared, se apaga la ciudad._

Fraser could hear the music through the door, the same music he'd heard through the door to Assistant States Attorney Kowalski's apartment. His hand froze in the act of knocking. Perhaps now was not the time.

_Llorando. Y no hay más, muero quizás. ¿Adónde estás?_

The conversation with his father had unsettled him a bit. Perhaps it was better to wait.

The music was slow and plaintive.

Or perhaps there would never be a good time. Or perhaps no time would be better than this. 

__

_Soñando, sin respirar, te quiero amar, te quiero amar._

Or perhaps he just needed to know. He knocked. "Ray."

The music continued. He could hear Ray moving around the apartment, in time with the music.

"Ray."

Nothing. More shuffling.

_"Ray."_

"Go away, Fraser." He'd been drinking. "I told you. I wanna be alone."

"Well, actually Ray," he crossed his arms and leaned a shoulder against the door, "you said you thought you wanted to be alone, and that was some time ago, so—"

"I ain't changed my mind."

"Ah." He dropped his head. Perhaps he should go.

_We threw Snuffy Briggs in a snowbank a couple of times to cool his ardor. First time it didn't work. Second time he got pneumonia and it took him out of circulation for a month._

He knocked again. "Ray, I don't think it's a good idea for you to be alone right now."

"Not alone." Ray's voice was muffled. "Got all the ghosts here."

"Yes, indeed," Fraser whispered. He knocked again, more loudly and longer. "Ray. Ray. Ray. Ray. Ra—"

The door swung open underneath his fist. "What?!"

Ray's eyes were red, but looking into them, Fraser wasn't sure anymore that it was drink.

"I don't think it's good for you to be alone."

"Fine. Come in." Ray shut the door. He opened it again. "Sorry."

Fraser stepped in. The room was dark. Ray went over to the stereo and turned up the music even louder.

"I don't think turning up the music is conducive—"

"I let you in. Don't push it."

"Understood." Fraser rubbed his thumb over his eyebrow. "It's just that I would like to talk to you about your relationship with Assistant States Attorney Kowalski, and I would prefer not to have to shout over the music."

"Don't got no relationship with Assistant States Attorney Kowalski." Ray stopped moving around the room—Fraser realized he'd been dancing—and picked up a bottle from a side table. He turned to Fraser before he drank. "Thought she made that pretty damn clear."

"Ray, please put down that bottle of Everclear and listen to me."

Ray pulled his chin back and tilted his head as he gave Fraser that cold smile Fraser had only seen directed at criminals. "I'm listening to you, Frase. I'm a multi-tasker. I can drink-listen, listen-drink, listen-drink-dance—" He stumbled over the corner of his sofa. "Yeah." He dropped into a chair and hung his head. "I'm not drunk," he said tiredly. He lifted the bottle and handed it to Fraser, who took it and walked across the apartment to pour it down the sink.

"Removing the temptation?"

"California, Florida, Maine, Massachusetts, Hawaii, Iowa, Michigan, New York, Nevada, Ohio, Washington, North Carolina, New Hampshire and Minnesota states currently ban the sale of Everclear. Ingesting one shot of Everclear can lead to extreme intoxication, vomiting, nausea, temporary impairment of motor skills, and alcohol poison—"

"Got it."

"—ing, which can lead to death." Fraser upended the bottle to shake out the last few drops, then dropped it in Ray's trash, where it rattled against some cans. "I need you sober, Ray."

"I told you. I'm sober." At Fraser's disbelieving look, he shrugged. "I was angry. I bought the bottle." He nodded toward the table again. "I didn't drink any. I was drinking pop."

Fraser glanced over at the small table. There was a half-full glass, caramel liquid with the tiny bubbles hugging the side. "That's—that's good."

"So you want to talk about Stella."

"Actually, Ray, no. Or rather yes, but only in a somewhat related matter. Tangential. Well, perhaps not really tangential. Pertinent." He was nervous. "Associated."

"You're babbling, Fraser. Get to the point."

He was babbling. He needed to get this right. Perhaps—

He strode over to Ray's chair, grabbed him by the shoulders, and pulled him up. "I think I may be falling in love with you, Stanley Raymond Kowalski, and that would be inadvisable if you are still in love with Assistant States Attorney Kowalski. Or even sincerely attached in any romantic way." He paused. "Or think that you might be. Sincerely."

Ray's eyes widened. "You?"

He took a deep breath, blew it out noisily. "Me."

Ray's grin started small, then crawled across his face. "You." He sobered suddenly. "Y'know, it's not just like changing gears—"

"I understand, Ray."

"'Overstand.'"

Fraser allowed himself a small smile. "I stand corrected."

"—it might take some time, is all I'm saying. To be sure." Ray was still talking.

"I understand."

"—I'm not saying I object though. On principal or anything. I mean, I don't have any objections to the guy thing—" Ray was still talking.

"I understand."

"—so—you—really?"

"Me." He pulled Ray close. "Really." And he kissed him.


End file.
